


To the Ends of the Earth

by Kapua



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Light Angst, Pirates, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapua/pseuds/Kapua
Summary: "She should have known. Of fucking course Yennefer would throw her lot in with pirates. It's absurd and ridiculous and completely in line with the younger woman's flair for the dramatic.But it's not the pirate business that bothers her. No, the real problem is the way her mouth goes dry when the cabin door opens and Yennefer stumbles out."AU post-Sodden. The Brotherhood exiles Yennefer, and she decides to find new ways to entertain herself. These ways may or may not include piracy. Tissaia is still recovering from the dimeritium, but she's finally decided to put what she wants over her duties to the continent. Just this once. What could go wrong?Featuring pirate!Yen and possessive!Tissaia
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 60
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [L_Durven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Durven/gifts).



> Done as a prompt. Light angst, maybe a little humor, and of course plenty of our two favorite idiots!

If anyone were to ask Yennefer what she thought she would do when she hightailed it after Sodden, there are many things she might have considered. 

Perhaps another version of Rinde, indulging whatever pleasures stoked her interest. Maybe some sly efforts to undermine the Brotherhood's interests and give them as many headaches as possible. 

(She would never forgive them for threatening to exile her after she saved everyone's asses just because she used a little fire magic. It's not like she had any better options.) 

She would even have entertained the idea of continuing her crusade to have a child of her own, though the idea had lost its shine.

(And that little fact had absolutely  _ nothing _ to do with a certain interaction with a certain sorceress at Sodden, whispered words of importance in the air between them as flames licked at their heels)

But the one thing she never expected turns out to be the best thing to happen to her in decades. Because as she's sitting in a pub on the godsforsaken little isle of Faroe, she just happens to glance out the window as a small ship with black sails pulls into the harbor. 

"Who's that?" she asks one of the servants. She's been in the village just over two weeks now, and she thought she knew all the ships. 

The boy follows her line of sight and winces.

"Pirates, miss. They come every third moon to collect on their debts."

Yennefer is intrigued purely based on hearing the word 'pirates', but then she sees a striking woman walking off the ship and for a moment her heart stops. 

The woman is small, with brown hair tied up in a knot at the nape of her neck. She's wearing brown leather trousers and a creamy linen blouse that has four, maybe five of the top buttons undone. A worn dark leather coat that reaches to her knees, a belt cinched around her waist, an oversized hat, and leather boots complete the look. 

Everything about her is familiar—the ramrod posture, the thin lips pressed into a displeased line while she watches the dock workers unload her ship, the way that everyone around her seems to be hanging on her every word. If Yennefer squints, she can almost believe that it's Tissaia.

She knows it isn't. It's ridiculous. The mere thought of Tissaia on a ship as a pirate is absurd. But the moment has left Yennefer shaken, and she drains the rest of her ale in a few gulps. 

Feeling slightly fortified, she considers her options. These pirates are the most interesting thing to happen since coming here. And she's always had a bit of an outlaw streak in her. Maybe this is the solution to her boredom.

Yennefer wipes her mouth, tosses a few coins on the table, and heads for the door. 

###

"You're not supposed to be out of bed."

Tissaia winces when she hears Triss coming down the hall towards her. It's true. She's not  _ technically _ supposed to be wandering around Aretuza, but she has business that needs tending to. And it's rather hard, she's discovered, to be taken seriously while bedridden.

"There are things that require my attention," she says, trying to sound imperious and unquestionable. It works, up until a sudden coughing fit seizes her and she has to lean against the wall for support.

Triss is at her arm in an instant. "You're only going to delay your recovery if you keep pushing," she chides gently. Tissaia shakes her head.

"Margarita will be arriving tomorrow. I need to ensure that everything is ready for the transition."

She's arranged for Margarita Laux-Antille to take over as Rectoress of Aretuza for the foreseeable future. There are things beyond the stone walls that she must see to, and she can't do that while chained to her duties as Rectoress. It's not ideal, but she trusts Margarita to shepherd the girls until her return.

Triss is watching her with a small frown. "You still mean to go after her, then?"

"I do." Tissaia's voice is quiet. "I owe her that much, at least, for saving us all."

It's been eating away at her since she woke up a week ago. The last thing she remembered was stumbling across the scorched battlefield crying out for Yennefer, but there had been no sign of the younger sorceress. 

She'd lost consciousness then, and did not wake until a fortnight had passed. The dimeritium had weakened her nearly to the point of death, and it was only due to Triss's skill as a healer that she'd survived. 

Unfortunately, in her absence the Brotherhood had taken it upon themselves to exile Yennefer. They couldn't find her—and for that, Tissaia was grateful—but they deemed her uncontrollable and a liability for her use of fire magic. With Stregobor pushing the matter and Tissaia lying unconscious from dimeritium poisoning, there had been swift agreement to the proposal.

She knows logically that there is nothing she could have done to change the outcome. It's a miracle that she's even alive. But it still feels as if she's failed Yennefer somehow, and she can only imagine what the younger mage thinks of the whole situation. 

She needs to find Yennefer, to make sure that she's all right. Nobody has seen her since Sodden, and while that's likely just a strategic choice in light of the exile order, part of Tissaia's heart still aches at the thought of her being injured or alone somewhere. She deserves better. She deserves a world where a council of cowardly men doesn't punish her for doing what nobody else could. 

Tissaia would love nothing more than to obliterate every damned mage in the Brotherhood who agreed to the exile. She wants to claw their eyes out and scream that they couldn't even be bothered to leave their cushioned chairs to participate, what gives them the right to dictate the fate of the woman who saved them all?

Because Yennefer  _ had _ saved them. Had saved  _ her. _ She still doesn't know how Yennefer's telepathic call managed to break through the haze of dimeritium, but she'd felt the younger woman's pleas and had stumbled to her. 

Those moments when they found each other are seared into her mind. The way that Yennefer had looked at her with no hate in her eyes, just openness and desperation. 

There had been so many things Tissaia wanted to say to her. Things about how precious Yennefer was to her, how she had never wanted this for her, how she was sorry she couldn't save her now. She could almost imagine the feeling of Yennefer's skin under her gloved hand as she stroked the younger woman's cheek, and she had longed to be able to touch her properly. But there was no time for sentiment beyond what could be conveyed in sparse seconds. 

_ Forget the bottle. _

She feels some guilt, remembering her words. Not regret, mind. They had been the words that needed to be said, for their survival but also the survival of the continent. But they had felt like being stabbed when she spoke them, knowing that it might mean Yennefer's death. She'd had no way of knowing what the outcome would be. Fire was all-consuming by nature, and to tell Yennefer to call on it with no bottle to contain it...there had always been a risk of the younger woman dying in the aftermath. 

But she had forced herself to speak, choosing her duty to the continent over what her heart was screaming for, which was to wrap Yennefer up and keep her safe. When Yennefer stood on that rocky outcropping and raised her hands, Tissaia had thought that she was going to die. She'd contented herself with the knowledge that at least her last sight would be of Yennefer, blazing like a goddess made flesh before her as she decimated an entire army in seconds.

As flames swept around her, leaving her untouched, Tissaia had stared up at Yennefer with wonder. She'd promised herself then—if she survived, she was done putting duty first. At least in this one case. 

She doubts that Yennefer returns any of the emotion that swirls in her chest every time she thinks about the younger woman, but she tells herself it will be enough to even speak the words out loud, to make sure that Yennefer knows without doubt how important she is to her. Tissaia hates that she hasn't even been able to thank Yennefer for sparing her life at Sodden, and that alone is enough to motivate her to leave Aretuza in search of her.

Her plans have been considerably delayed by the slow recovery from the dimeritium, but she is done waiting. The fact that she can still barely walk from one end of Aretuza to the other without feeling like she's going to die means she should probably rest another week at least, but she figures she can finish healing on the road. She's got enough magic for portals and basic defense, and she harbors no illusions about being able to find Yennefer quickly. No, she'd rather leave as soon as possible and deal with the possible ramifications to her health should they arise.

"Archmistress?"

Tissaia turns and sees a servant approaching. The girl ducks her head respectfully, and Tissaia straightens her spine, ignoring the way the movement sends a stab of pain through her chest.

"What is it?"

"Mage Laux-Antille has arrived."

Tissaia nods. "Show her to my office. I'll be there shortly."

The servant scurries off, and Tissaia doesn't need to look to know that Triss is watching her disapprovingly. To her great appreciation, however, the healer doesn't say anything, just offers Tissaia her arm.

"Come on, then. If you're so determined to see yourself to an early grave I can at least make sure you don't pass out between here and your office."

Tissaia takes the arm, albeit a bit reluctantly. The days since waking have wounded her pride more than she imagined possible. She's thankful that at least the only one to see how truly weak she's become has been Triss, who she trusts not to use it to stab her in the back with at some convenient future date.

They arrive at Tissaia's office door after what feels like hours, and Tissaia is trying to pretend that she doesn't just want to curl into a ball on the floor and cough her lungs out. 

"Come see me, when you're done here." Triss's tone leaves no room for argument, and Tissaia just nods wearily. When the healer leaves, she stays outside her office for a few seconds longer, trying to catch her breath before stepping inside.

Margarita looks up as she enters, and Tissaia smiles faintly at the other mage. Her long blonde hair is in loose golden waves about her shoulders, and she's wearing an ornate navy blue dress cut low enough that it borders on indecent. The two of them have had many differences over the years, but there's always been a mutual respect between them. It's good to see a friendly face at the moment.

"Tissaia."

She inclines her head a fraction of an inch, and the gesture makes Tissaia let out a tiny scoff. It's appreciated, but unnecessary, especially given why she's called Margarita here.

"I trust your travels went smoothly?"

Tissaia moves around the desk to sit in her chair, trying not to look like she's collapsing in it. Margarita nods at the question.

"They did. Is everything prepared?"

This time it's Tissaia who nods. When she's sure she can do it without her hands shaking, she reaches up and unfastens the pendant from around her neck and slides it across the table to the blonde.

"This is the last piece. Everything else is already done."

Margarita picks the pendant up but doesn't put it on. Instead, she traces the points of it with a finger for a few seconds, and when she speaks she doesn't look up from her inspection.

"What was it like?"

Tissaia sighs. The blonde doesn't need to specify what she's referring to. It's only natural that she would be curious; no mages that she can recall have ever survived this level of systemic exposure to dimeritium. She does not like to think of the fate she's only just escaped, but she can give Margarita this much.

"Like having the air slowly choked from your body while you laid helpless, fingers scrabbling in the dirt, cut off from the rest of the world so completely that you aren't sure whether you imagined the connection in the first place."

"And now?" The blonde's eyes lift from the pendant and she searches Tissaia's face.

"Now..." Tissaia pauses. Doesn't quite know how to describe it, nor how much of this she wants to speak aloud. "Now it's a phantom ache, like a wound that won't heal."

"I'm sorry." Maragrita's voice is sincere, and Tissaia believes her. All mages can imagine the pain of being cut off from their chaos, though few have ever had to experience it. 

The moment passes, and Margarita slides the pendant's chain over her head.

"How long will you be away?"

And Tissaia doesn't even have to think about it, because there's only one answer that feels right:

"As long as it takes."

###

"Yennefer!"

The sorceress spins and sends a blast of chaos in the direction of her name, grinning when she takes out two men from the neighboring ship who'd been closing in on one of the pirates. It turns out that she rather likes being a pirate. There's rarely a dull moment, and she has a certain appreciation for the fact that everyone encourages her mischief rather than trying to force her to behave.

A scream rings out behind her, and Yennefer turns to see Maja pulling her sword from a man's chest—the captain of the other ship, judging by his clothing.

Now that she knows her better it's easier to see all of the little ways that the woman is different from Tissaia—her cheekbones aren't as sharp, her lips are a little fuller, her eyes are green instead of blue—but there's still an eerie resemblance. 

When Yennefer had approached her that day at the docks, Maja had looked her up and down and fixed her with a hard look.

"What's a sorceress want with pirates?"

"Wondering if you might have an opening for one on your crew," Yennefer had replied smoothly, affecting her very best disinterested look.

Maja's skeptical expression didn't shift. "Why would you trade a life of luxurious court assignments for piracy?"

Yennefer had said the first thing that came to mind: "Freedom." And the word rang true as she spoke it, because that was what it came down to, really. She was so tired of trying to be something that someone else had told her to be, and then being punished for her efforts. It was exhausting. She wanted to escape those expectations and never look back, and joining up with a crew of pirates was probably one of the best possible ways to do that. Not like they were going to rat her out to the Brotherhood.

Her answer had clearly surprised Maja, but the captain had nodded slowly. "Very well then. I'll take you, but if you try anything I won't hesitate to throw you overboard."

That was enough for Yennefer, and when the ship left the next morning it was with her standing at the bow. The weeks since have been better than what she expected. She doesn't have to worry about stroking the fragile egos of any kings, and there's no shortage of things to keep her entertained. 

The whole crew are somewhat more principled than she was anticipating. There's a lot less rampant raiding and plundering than she imagined there would be, and it turns out that all of the ship's targets are either captained or owned by the type of men who Yennefer would have no compunctions about murdering. She'd asked Maja about it once she noticed the pattern, and the woman had shrugged.

"There are enough men out there practically begging for a painful death on the end of my sword that it seems silly not to give it to them. And besides, it's much less satisfying to fuck over someone who doesn't deserve it."

She's apparently managed to fall in with a crew of ethical pirates, which seems like an oxymoron, but she's not opposed in the slightest. It fits rather well with her own view of the world, and she has always had a certain fondness for karmic retribution. 

So things in general are going well. And then when she adds in Maja...well, things just get better and better.

Yennefer can't deny that the woman is gorgeous. Even separate from the similarities between her and another certain sorceress Yennefer is desperately trying not to think of, Maja is beautiful. She's fit and commanding and a little bit arrogant and the way her lips curl up when she smirks  _ totally  _ works for Yennefer, and she's never been one to deny herself when she wants something. Life is too short for that. 

So when she spotted Maja on the deck late one night gazing out over the ocean, she didn't even try to stop her feet from carrying her over to the other woman. Maja turned when she got closer, and the way she looked with loose tendrils of hair floating about her face in the breeze with the ocean and a night sky filled with stars behind her was stunning. She didn't protest when Yennefer stepped closer still, giving her a chance to back out before covering her lips with her own and kissing her fiercely. 

Maja is a talented lover, and after that first time they spend more nights together than not. It's fun, and it scratches several itches, and Yennefer forces herself to ignore the fact that it's not quite what she wants. 

In the early hours of the morning when she's lying awake unable to sleep she can almost admit to herself that she sometimes closes her eyes and imagines the the woman beneath her is someone else, that it's Tissaia's nails scratching deliciously up her back and Tissaia's voice shouting her name to the heavens. 

Almost, but not quite.

Because that would mean acknowledging that, in spite of the countless betrayals, she still can't bring herself to hate Tissaia. It irks her to no end, that she can't get the memories of them at Sodden out of her head. 

Sometimes she dreams of Tissaia looking at her with firelight flickering like gold in her blue eyes and saying with such perfect, utter conviction  _ You still have so much left to give.  _ In her dreams, sometimes she doesn't let the night end with them parting ways. Sometimes she pulls the smaller woman to her bedroll with her, but she always wakes up and can't remember the rest.

Other times, she dreams of the way that Tissaia held her face when she told her to forget the bottle. There had been so much tenderness in that simple touch, and the look in the smaller woman's eyes still makes Yennefer shiver. Tissaia had looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and it had lit a fire under Yennefer's skin well before she took the literal flames into herself. 

There was so much between the two of them—not all of it good—but in those final moments before she stood, Yennefer had wanted nothing more than to pull the other woman to her and kiss her senseless. She'd settled for pressing their foreheads together, because the middle of a battle hardly seemed like the time to be having sudden awakenings about the nature of her feelings for Tissaia, but those brief seconds were what had allowed her to find the strength within herself to control the path of the fire, sparing the smaller woman as she crouched on the grass. 

She'd portalled away from the immediate aftermath on instinct, the act as involuntary as it had been during her conduit moment when she inadvertently fled to Aretuza. She hadn't possessed enough energy for a portal to return to Sodden, and she'd prayed that the others had survived—that  _ Tissaia _ had survived. 

Within a few days she was strong enough to return to Sodden, but word had reached her by that time of the Brotherhood's unanimous decision to exile her. And that hurt more than anything else. The lingering pain from where Sabrina had stabbed her paled in comparison to the knowledge that, even after everything they'd shared—even after Yennefer  _ saved _ her—Tissaia still agreed with the exile order. 

In her dreams, she sometimes asks Tissaia why she did it—why did she look at her like that, why did she say those things, why did she bother saving her at all if her plan was to throw her to the wolves all along? 

She never gets an answer.

It's infuriating and also pathetic that she can't banish the woman from her brain, even after her many betrayals. Yennefer hates it, but she can't stop it, and so when her thoughts turn towards Tissaia she drowns herself in whatever is most convenient. 

That's what's on her mind as she strides across the ship and pulls Maja in for a searing kiss. She doesn't want to think about how similar the woman in front of her is to Tissaia, doesn't want to be reminded of how stunning Tissaia had looked even covered in the dirt and blood of battle. So she kisses Maja until her brain empties of all other thoughts, and when she pulls back she's pleased to see Maja's green eyes have gone dark.

The battle around them is over. They've won—handily, because as it happens, having a mage on your side is a sizable advantage—and Yennefer turns on her heel and heads for Maja's quarters.

When they finally come up for air hours later, Yennefer pouts as Maja slides out of bed and starts to dress.

"Don't give me that look," Maja chides her. "You knew what you were getting into when you batted those eyelashes and charmed your way into my bed."

"I didn't know you would leave me alone in bed at every possible opportunity," Yennefer grumbles, but the protest is half-hearted. 

"Only when we're coming into port and I have to see to the deliveries." Maja arches a brow at her and the action is enough to make Yennefer's heart twinge. It's too reminiscent of the way Tissaia would look at her, as if daring her to keep pushing, and she turns away.

"Fine," she says, trying to mask the sudden sadness in her voice. "But I expect a particularly fine spread for dinner this evening in penance."

"What, am I not fine enough for you?"

Maja laughs and dodges the pillow Yennefer throws at her, tugging her shirt on and slipping out of the cabin before the mage can find more ammunition. 

Yennefer sinks back against the pillows and curses her brain. If there was a potion to selectively forget a single person she would legitimately consider it, if only to end this torture. 

With Maja out on the deck, her sole reason for staying in the cabin is gone. Yennefer reluctantly sits up on the bed, not bothering to pull the sheet to cover her nakedness. 

She's just starting to slide her dress on when she hears Maja calling out orders to the crew, directing them where to drop anchor. She feels the ship's movement gradually slow as it comes to rest in the harbor. They must have pulled all the way up to the docks, because she can hear the faint bustle of village streets if she listens carefully.

Maja shouts again, but her tone is completely different and it catches Yennefer's attention.

"And what, pray tell, brings a fine mage such as yourself all the way to Faroe? I thought you said I wouldn't see you for another ten years, at least."

Her senses are instantly on high alert. There shouldn't be any mages in Faroe. She didn't even know Maja  _ knew  _ any other mages. The only reason for one to be there waiting at the docks is if they've been sent by the Brotherhood to kill her. She calls up a portal in an instant and is very nearly about to step through it when she hears the mage reply.

"Things changed. I hear you may be able to help me find someone I'm looking for."

She  _ knows _ that voice. Even from a distance, even with the wooden walls of the ship between them, she  _ knows _ .

She yanks her dress the rest of the way up, not bothering to fasten it in the back, and sprints from the room.

###

She should have known. Of fucking  _ course _ Yennefer would throw her lot in with pirates. It's absurd and ridiculous and completely in line with the younger woman's flair for the dramatic.

Tissaia isn't actually bothered by the pirate business. She met Maja just over a decade ago, and the woman has a good heart in spite of her love for raiding. There are much worse choices Yennefer could have made, in terms of the company she keeps. 

What she  _ is _ bothered by, however, is the way her mouth goes dry when the cabin door behind the woman opens and Yennefer stumbles out, eyes wide. 

The younger mage looks flushed and wild, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose curls. She's wearing a light grey dress with black rope embroidery across the bodice. The cut is probably just low enough to show off the tops of her breasts when the dress is properly fastened, but it is most definitely  _ not _ properly fastened at the moment, and Tissaia has to force her eyes away from the ample cleavage on display. Yennefer's lip paint is nearly worn away, and Tissaia feels like calling a bolt of lightning down from the clear blue sky to smite the captain where she stands when she sees a matching color on the woman's neck. 

Yennefer just stares at her open-mouthed for a second, and Tissaia is almost worried that something is wrong until the younger woman growls out, "What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing here?"

And  _ oh _ —Tissaia knew that she might not be thrilled to see her. She doesn't expect Yennefer to forgive her lightly for not being able to stop the Brotherhood, for not coming to find her sooner. But in all the days she spent carefully tracking the woman's movements, traveling painstakingly from one village to the next and trying to conserve her magic, she never really thought about what it would feel like to find Yennefer and have her look at her like this—like she wishes she could open a hole in the earth to swallow Tissaia whole. 

But she hasn't spent the past five centuries perfecting her mask just to let it slip now. She allows herself only a tiny frown and her voice is perfectly cool and even when she replies, "Checking to see that you haven't gotten into any trouble."

Yennefer scoffs, the sound angry and rough in her throat. "Oh, so you're here on behalf of your precious Brotherhood? I should have guessed."

Before Tissaia can reply, Maja butts in, looking between them with interest.

"You two know each other?"

Yennefer glares at Tissaia and snaps, "A long time ago." Then she realizes that Maja appears to know Tissaia and rounds on the pirate. "And how do  _ you _ know her?"

Maja shrugs, unconcerned. "One of my crew had a nasty run-in with a kraken and she just happened to be at the inn when we came into port. That was years ago, though." 

Yennefer directs her rage back at Tissaia. "You've been out here healing  _ pirates _ ? All the while lecturing the rest of us on maintaining law and order across the continent?"

Tissaia doesn't react, just sighs and arches a brow. 

"Are you quite done, now? I came to talk, and I'd rather not waste the journey out here."

And it's that fucking  _ look _ , the one that makes Yennefer simultaneously filled with rage and impossibly attracted to Tissaia. She can't say no, as much as she wants the satisfaction of seeing that smug expression wiped off the woman's face.

"Fine," she spits, turning on her heel and ducking back into the cabin. While she's inside—getting more fully dressed, Tissaia presumes—Maja watches her carefully.

The scrutiny makes her skin itch, and she finally snaps.

"Do I really look so different from the last time you saw me?"

Maja just keeps looking for another few seconds before shaking her head. "Not at all. Damn sorceresses. Even after getting dosed with dimeritium you still look fucking flawless."

Tissaia freezes. She's done everything possible to keep word of the dimeritium from spreading; widespread knowledge of her weakness is the last thing she needs. The Brotherhood exploiting it was bad enough, but she's got enemies across the continent who would love nothing more than to find her while she's not yet returned to her full power.

As if sensing her discomfort, Maja sighs. "Relax. Nobody else knows. I keep tabs on these things more as a personal matter. If there's to be an upheaval in the continent's fortunes, it pays for me to know in advance." She pauses, then adds, "But your fancy stone walls do have a few leaks that could stand to be patched."

Tissaia growls under her breath, but she's just grateful that it seems Maja learning of the dimeritium was a side effect of her general efforts to stay apprised of the Brotherhood's plans. She wonders if the pirate has told Yennefer, then decides that it doesn't really matter. Yennefer would be well justified to be angry with her either way, so she'll just have to wait to find out what the younger woman knows. 

Before she can say anything else, the door to the cabin opens and Yennefer comes back out.

The younger mage's dress is righted, but it still makes something twist in Tissaia's stomach. She thinks if she's honest Yennefer could wear anything and she would still find the woman gorgeous, but this whole devil-may-care attitude combined with the wardrobe choices is unfairly attractive.

"Where are you dragging me off to, then?" Yennefer asks. She already sounds irritated and Tissaia sighs. Of course it can't be easy between them. Even after everything, they still return to old habits.

"The inn." Tissaia's got a room there, and the food is fine enough. Triss made her promise she wouldn't forget to eat, and she's done a mostly acceptable job of keeping that promise thus far. Plus she's less likely to do something stupid like shove Yennefer against a wall and kiss her if they're surrounded by other people. They need to talk about things first, much as the mere thought of discussing anything related to emotion pains her.

Yennefer doesn't bother responding and turns to Maja. Her whole demeanor shifts when she does. She looks more playful, less angry and sullen, and Tissaia feels a powerful spike of resentment shoot through her that the pirate is able to so effortlessly elicit those reactions. 

"I'll be back tonight. Don't leave without me."

Yennefer gives Maja a teasing grin before starting to jump down from the ship. Maja smirks and catches her by the wrist, tugging her back for a searing kiss that smudges the lip paint Yennefer has reapplied. When she pulls back, Maja uses her thumb to neaten the line along Yennefer's bottom lip.

"I'll wait up for you. We still have unfinished business."

The lecherous way she runs her eyes down Yennefer's body leaves absolutely no doubt as to what type of  _ business  _ she means, and Tissaia barely holds it together. It's been a long time since she wanted to strangle someone as badly as she does when Maja turns and throws a wink at her. 

"I haven't got all night," she snaps, unable to help the edge in her tone. Yennefer just rolls her eyes.

"Let's get this over with."

###

This is going terribly. Yennefer doesn't know why she thought it would be different, but they can't say more than two words to each other without slipping in a barb—or two, or three.

It's stupid, because she knows she doesn't hate Tissaia. Part of her lit up when she saw the woman standing on the dock. She was there looking for  _ her.  _ No one else. The great Tissaia de Vries crossed half the continent to find her, and there's a certain satisfaction in that.

But she still can't help the hurt that wells up in her. It's been over a month since Sodden now, and the only news she's gotten out of Thanedd was the announcement of her exile. And yes, she went on a merry romp across half the kingdoms to lay false trails in case they tried to find her, but honestly—Tissaia is the most powerful mage on the damn continent. She should have been able to track Yennefer down in an instant, if she wanted to.

Which means the only explanation is that she didn't want to. Not until now.  _ And likely only now because she's got some convenient need for you  _ she thinks to herself, wishing she'd just turned around and gone back into the cabin when she caught sight of Tissaia. But the smaller woman had looked so beautiful, standing on the docks in a rich green dress that showed off the delicate lines of her clavicle, that turning away from her had been impossible.

"Yennefer?"

Tissaia's voice is a question, and Yennefer blinks over at her. 

"Sorry, zoned out again—your voice still seems to have the same sedative qualities it possessed from when I was a mere student under your ever-controlling thumb."

It's a lie. She actually finds Tissaia's voice enticing in the best sort of way, all crisp syllables and hard sounds. It's not a voice that would ever be described as lilting, but that suits Yennefer just fine. Softness is overrated. 

Tissaia doesn't know any of that, of course, so she gets away with the falsehood.

They go back to sitting in silence, nursing their mugs of ale. They've been trading verbal jabs for the better part of the last hour, and Yennefer still doesn't know why Tissaia's come. It's even more frustrating now that she knows it doesn't have to be this way. At Sodden, there had been something there. They had spoken as...she doesn't know what. But it hadn't been as enemies. So to go back to this, both maneuvering for the upper ground as they spar over old wounds, is exhausting. 

"Why are you here?"

She asks the question bluntly. If Tissaia cannot give her a proper answer then she'd rather leave now and save herself another few hours of agony. It's worse than she could have imagined, to be so close to the woman who has occupied so many of her thoughts in the past weeks, only to feel further away from her than ever.

Tissaia doesn't say anything for a few minutes. The silence stretches for so long that Yennefer very nearly starts to get up, but then the other woman speaks.

"I came to thank you."

Yennefer pauses.

"I didn't think you even knew how to say those words, so I'll overlook that that's the shabbiest thank you I've ever heard."

Tissaia's nostrils flare but she just purses her lips and keeps talking.

"You didn't have to save me. At Sodden."

"Well, now we're even," Yennefer says flippantly, trying to hide the way her stomach is flipping at the honest look on Tissaia's face. She's got whiplash from how quickly the tone of the conversation has shifted, and she retreats into wit and biting humor to keep from saying anything she'll regret.

"Yennefer..." Tissaia sounds tired, and Yennefer pushes forward, sensing a chance to regain her footing and unbalance Tissaia.

"If you really wanted to thank me, you needn't have come all the way out here. I would have settled for you not standing by and  _ supporting _ them as they exiled me."

She hears the sharp intake of breath at her words and feels a small sense of satisfaction at getting a rise out of Tissaia.

"I didn't support them."

Yennefer scowls. "Really? How stupid do you think I am, Tissaia? Exile requires a unanimous decision. And now you've got the nerve to show up here and pretend to thank me?"

Tissaia looks pale in the dim candlelight of the inn, and if Yennefer didn't know better she might think the woman is trembling slightly. But this is Tissaia, and her voice is the same icy evenness that it always is when she speaks.

"I should go."

"What, now that you can't manipulate me to your own ends you want to leave?" Yennefer taunts, unable to help herself. All of the hurt from Tissaia's betrayal is seeping out in her words, and it feels good to finally be able to say her piece.

Tissaia just shakes her head and stands up. 

"This was a mistake. I shan't bother you again."

Yennefer scoffs and waves a hand. "Go on, then. I won't miss you."

She watches as Tissaia leaves, crossing to the stairs that lead up to the inn's rooms. It isn't until the woman is out of sight that the bitterness of what's just happened begins to sink in. Yennefer frowns and drinks the rest of her ale before eyeing Tissaia's half-empty glass and finishing it off for good measure. 

It's not her fault the woman is absolutely impossible. She was doing just fine as a pirate. So what if she dreams of Tissaia more nights than not? So what if she'd felt more hope than she could recall in recent memory when she heard the woman's voice on the dock? So what if her heart aches and yearns to follow Tissaia up the stairs, betrayal be damned? None of that matters. Their failed attempt at civil conversation over dinner is evidence enough that she's imagined whatever she thought might be between them. 

Yennefer shoves her chair back hard enough that it knocks into the adjacent table. The occupants protest, but she's already halfway across the room. With a final muttered curse as she glances up the stairs on her way out, she ducks out the door and into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am neglecting the actual fiction projects I should be working on because these two are just so great. Tame(ish?) smut at the end. Enjoy :)

Tissaia sits on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight and face expressionless. For all the stillness on the surface, however, there's a battle raging just beneath her skin.

Yennefer's accusations of betrayal have cut her deeply, wounding her in ways she didn't even know she could still be injured. It's been so long since she even entertained the thought of allowing this level of emotional investment in another person that she forgot the weakness that's the inevitable result, what it's like to have her heart living outside of her body in the grasp of another who can destroy her by doing nothing more than tightening their fist around it.

That's what it had felt like, to hear Yennefer accuse her of supporting the exile vote. It had sucked all the air from her lungs and her heart had squeezed in her chest the same as if Yennefer had reached in and physically grabbed it. 

She'd come prepared for Yennefer hating her for not being able to stop the vote. That was justified, and understandable. But she had never imagined that the younger woman would genuinely believe her to have not only taken part in but  _ supported _ the exile order. 

It makes every fibre of her being ache to know that Yennefer thought her capable of such cruel betrayal after everything. What kind of person must she seem if that was how little trust she's earned? 

She doesn't see what good it would do to tell Yennefer any of this. If she already believes Tissaia would betray her so horribly then it's a moot point. There can be no future between them if that's what the younger woman truly thinks. 

No matter what Tissaia feels, no matter what she came here hoping to say to Yennefer—none of it is enough to cover over the perceived betrayal. Saying more at this juncture will only cause further harm, and she doesn't want that. She wants Yennefer to be happy, and as much as it pains her to even think it, perhaps the truth is that Yennefer will be happier without her.

It's a bitter pill to swallow. More so since Tissaia knows she will eventually have to return to Thanedd and Aretuza, along with the very people who are responsible for her current heartbreak. But who is she, without her duties? She'd thought for such a brief moment that perhaps she might be allowed more than duty, but it seems the fates have other intentions for her. 

But she won't make herself return just yet. If she does, she might not be able to control herself if she sees Stregobor or any of the others. Rage at what they've stolen from her—unknowingly, perhaps, though she assumes that Stregobor at least would have considered the added benefit of driving a wedge between her and Yennefer—simmers in her belly, hot and coiled like a snake ready to strike at the first available target. 

No, Thanedd is not an option. Not until she can settle herself. But she also can't bear to stay in Faroe another night. It's torture to know that Yennefer is within easy walking distance, and the last threads of Tissaia's self control are fraying faster than she can mend them. If she stays, she will surely find herself returning to the ship at some point in the night, calling out for Yennefer and trying to tell her....what? That she's sorry? That she cares deeply for her, and never meant for her to get hurt?

There's nothing to be said that will help either of them. She knows that. And so she stands from the bed and conjures a portal to Ard Skellig. Her chaos is still not fully returned, and she knows she will not have enough in her to conjure a portal back to Faroe until after Yennefer's ship departs in the morning. The forced distance will be sufficient to keep her from seeing Yennefer for the night; after that, she will have to find the strength within herself.

It feels like she's carving her heart out and leaving it crushed on the floor of the inn as she steps through the portal, but Tissaia doesn't look back. If leaving her in peace is the only thing she can give Yennefer, then she will at least ensure she does this much without fail.

The portal closes behind her, and the only sign she'd been there at all is the barest trace of magic lingering in the air.

###

"What's wrong, Yennefer?"

Yennefer scoffs and shakes her head, trying to return to what she was doing. Hands push her back, though not unkindly, and she finally relents, flopping back onto the bed next to Maja with a groan. She throws an arm over her eyes, refusing to look over at Maja.

"It's fine," she says, "I'm just in a mood."

"The likes of which I've never seen from you before," Maja counters. "This is something to do with Tissaia, isn't it?"

And just hearing the other woman's name is enough to make Yennefer's heart constrict and her stomach drop. 

When Yennefer doesn't reply, Maja sighs.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," Maja snaps. "I can feel you trying to forget yourself in my body, and while I'm normally quite happy to serve as a placeholder for whatever little fantasies you come up with, this is different."

Yennefer looks at her, a little surprised and a little guilty, and Maja shakes her head.

"Did you really think I couldn't tell? I was honestly surprised you didn't ask if you could cast a glamor on me." She waves her hand when Yennefer opens her mouth. "It's fine. You were still a wonderfully satisfying lover, and that's all I really cared about. What you do in your head is not my business. But something has changed, and I won't be used as a replacement when the object of your affections is just a few hundred yards away."

"She's not—" Yennefer blows out a rough breath when Maja shoots her a look that tells her to choose her next words wisely. Finally, she settles for, "It's not that simple."

"And why not?"

Yennefer is half tempted to stand up and leave rather than continue subjecting herself to this line of questioning, but she figures she can give Maja this much. 

"She betrayed me. I thought I could trust her, and before she even bothered to check if I was alive she voted with the Brotherhood to exile me."

She can't keep the tremor from her voice as she says the words aloud. It still guts her, to imagine Tissaia viewing her so callously—disposable like the piglet she'd once called her.

Maja is looking at her with a conflicted expression, biting her lip, and Yennefer waits for her to come out and say whatever it is she's thinking.

"You don't know?" The words are quiet, questioning, and they make Yennefer want to pull her hair out. Why is it that literally everyone around her always seems to know more about Tissaia than she does?

"Know what?" she snaps, glaring at Maja when the woman hesitates to respond. "If you know something I don't, you'd best tell me now."

Maja pauses a few seconds longer, seeming to gather her thoughts, before she bluntly says, "Tissaia did not vote with the Brotherhood." Yennefer's mouth is open to call bullshit on that, because the vote was unanimous, but Maja keeps going and talks over her. "She  _ couldn't _ vote with them, because she was lying unconscious from dimeritium poisoning."

All of the air leaves Yennefer's chest and she feels like the bed might give way beneath her. There's no possible way that what Maja is saying is true. She would have heard. News of the great Tissaia de Vries being attacked via dimeritium would have spread far and wide—certainly far enough to reach the shores of Skellige.

"From what I hear, she regained consciousness only a fortnight ago."

"And how, pray tell, have you heard this news and I have not?" Yennefer is proud of the fact that she manages to keep her voice even in spite of the fact that she feels like the world is spinning around her.

Maja shrugs. "I pay a few ears on Thanedd. I get updates when we return to port." She hesitates again and looks vaguely apologetic. "I assumed you already knew all of this."

Yennefer sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. It's a gesture that reminds her of Tissaia, and she has to take a few calming breaths as her brain conjures up images of a small body lying unconscious, creeping lines of dimeritium spidering across pale skin. How had she not known? 

But she knows how. Because she'd foolishly assumed that the other woman was invincible. Even in the face of evidence to the contrary 

( _ Tissaia falling to her knees in front of her on the battlefield _ ) 

the thought had never really occurred to her that there might have been more at work than what she could see. 

Guilt runs hot through her belly as she recalls what she'd said to Tissaia at the inn mere hours earlier, and now she's frustrated. Why hadn't Tissaia said anything? Why hadn't she just told the truth of what happened, rather than letting Yennefer believe the worst of her?

But she knows that's not fair. Tissaia had tried to tell her she didn't support the vote, but she hadn't wanted to hear it. And if their positions were reversed, she can imagine the hurt of knowing that someone believed her capable of such betrayal. She probably would have left as well, rather than staying to plead her case to ears that didn't want to listen.

Her heart aches with the knowledge of what she's unknowingly inflicted on Tissaia, and she wonders if there's even a way to come back from this.

"Of course there is."

Yenenfer blinks and looks over at Maja, realizing she must have spoken the question aloud.

"How can she forgive me for assuming the worst of her, for not even giving her a chance to explain?" 

Maja looks at her a little too knowingly for Yennefer's liking. "She came to find you, Yen. Before anything else, as soon as she could, she came for you. That counts for something." Her expression turns sly, and she adds, "Plus, did you see the look on her face when I kissed you? I thought she might murder me then and there."

And if she thinks back on the interaction, Yennefer can see it—the dark look in Tissaia's eyes before she turned and headed for the inn. The way her gaze had lingered hungrily when Yennefer first came out of the cabin. 

The recognition that Tissaia might not be immune to the confusing swirl of feelings she's been dealing with for over a month is both heartening and also terrifying. More so since she's fairly certain she's managed to fuck it all up.

"I need to talk to her." She speaks without thinking, then winces as she waits for Maja's reaction. But the other woman just gives her a lopsided grin. 

"Go on. If you're ever wanting to return to a life of piracy, you know where to find me." She leans in and presses a kiss just to the corner of Yennefer's mouth. "It was fun while it lasted."

Yennefer nods, but her mind is already racing ahead. It won't be hard to find Tissaia at the inn. She has no idea what to say to the other woman, but she isn't about to let that stop her from trying. 

All she knows is that she needs to see Tissaia, and then maybe they can finally sort out this thing between them.

###

Tissaia sits at the bar nursing an ale. She can't sleep, and since Ard Skellig is well known for its all-night antics she's decided to try to distract herself with the locals.

The ale is fine enough, but shesd quickly realized that if her goal is to forget Yennefer then she's come to the wrong place. Half the men in the inn are trading stories of their run-ins with local pirates, and of  _ course _ the better part of those stories seem to involve Yennefer in some way.

She has to give the younger sorceress points for creativity, though. It sounds as if she's been able to make quite an impression given how short of a time she's been part of the crew. 

Tissaia snorts as one man recounts being on a ship and the men suddenly seeing shadows above them in the air, only to look up and find no fewer than twenty sharks suspended above them. She can picture the self-satisfied smile on Yennefer's face all too clearly as the man tells of how the sharks had been lowered closer and closer, until their looming toothy jaws were enough to convince the entire crew to surrender.

Another sailor shares a story of how the sorceress had dragged a behemoth crab out of the depths of the ocean to use as a tool to castrate a man with a well-known predilection for young girls.

Yet another has a tale of witnessing Yennefer saving a small local boat from a sea serpent, only to turn the serpent loose and let it kill the men when they insulted the pirate's captain.

With each story, the ache in her chest grows deeper. She'd been so fixated on finding Yennefer and talking to her that she'd never thought about what she would do afterward if things didn't work out. Now she is being forced to confront the rest of her very long life without ever being around Yennefer again, and it's agonizing—more so because the damage done is her own fault. 

Even though she'd been unconscious, she blames herself for not having some sort of plan in place to prevent Yennefer's exile. It's a testament to her slowly dwindling lack of control over the Brotherhood that she's spent the past decades barely able to shield Yennefer from their wrath, but she'd thought it was enough to keep the younger mage safe. 

She supposes her influence did manage some modicum of protection, in the end—the Brotherhood could always have determined that execution or binding Yennefer with dimeritium was warranted. But she thinks that they know she would have burned them all to the ground for that. The chance of her recovery was likely the only thing that had tempered Stregobor and the rest's desire to be permanently rid of Yennefer.

But it's not enough. Yennefer being alive is the absolute bare minimum, not some grand accomplishment to be celebrated. With all her years of knowledge and strategy, Tissaia knows she should have anticipated the day something like this could happen, where she would be indisposed and the Brotherhood left to its own devices. It's her own fault for allowing things to get to this point, and she thinks that she should be glad that Yennefer yelled at her and nothing more.

Tissaia knows that she will find a way to move forward from this, eventually. Maybe not fully, and maybe she'll never be able to rid herself of the longing that curls in her stomach every time she thinks of Yennefer, but she'll at least be able to find some way of continuing to live, of trying to make her life have meaning and protect the people of the continent. But it won't be what she'd foolishly allowed herself to hope for, in the dark of the night when she'd been tracking Yennefer down. Those dreams of being able to hold Yennefer close, whispering words of care and affection into the younger woman's skin, are gone.

She's getting broodier as the night drags on and she hears story after story that all somehow connect to Yennefer and her mischief. The crowd shows no signs of slowing in their enthusiasm, but Tissaia eventually decides she should leave and go back to her room. All she's doing now is torturing herself, and while she's not above indulging in the occasional masochistic self-flagellation, this is just making her sad. 

She sets a few coins on the counter and is gathering herself to stand when someone sits down on the stool next to her. Tissaia glances over, a bit irritated at the sudden encroachment on her personal space, but she freezes when she sees a familiar face staring back at her.

"Your portals are remarkably difficult to track," Yennefer comments, but her casual tone is belied by the way her eyes are searching Tissaia's face.

"What are you doing here?" Tissaia finds her voice, though she's not convinced this isn't an apparition conjured by her mind as another means of torture. But the way Yennefer bites her lip and looks away for the briefest moment before answering feels too real for it to be her imagination.

"Can we talk?"

And Tissaia can't deny Yennefer—never could before, but now finds herself even less able to think of a reason to do anything other than wordlessly nod and follow the other woman away from the bar. Yennefer pauses when they reach the stairs, and Tissaia slips past her to lead the way to her room. The narrow hallways means that she brushes against the younger woman as she passes her, and she grits her teeth and tries to ignore the phantom warmth from the touch.

They enter the room and the door shuts behind them. Tissaia sits on the bed, because she's exhausted and she doesn't know why Yennefer has followed her here unless it's to berate her further. She'd rather be comfortable if she's about to have her heart ripped open all over again.

But Yennefer doesn't say anything. She just looks at Tissaia, her violet eyes intent in their gaze. Tissaia doesn't know what she sees, but she can't contain the small frown that flits across her features when Yennefer suddenly crosses the room and drops to her knees in front of her. The younger woman still doesn't speak, just buries her face in the fabric of Tissaia's dress where it stretches across her legs. Her fingers come up to grasp at Tissaia's hands, squeezing tightly. It's completely unexpected and Tissaia has no idea what to make of it.

"Yennefer?" She keeps her voice quiet and gentle, almost afraid that speaking will break whatever spell is causing the younger woman to grasp at her like this. Yennefer lifts her head and Tissaia's frown deepens when she sees that her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Tissaia untangles one of her hands from Yennefer's grasp and reaches out, cupping her cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Yennfer is staring at her and it takes a second for the words to sink in. Tissaia's stomach twists as she realizes what Yennefer is referring to, and she lets her hand drop.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything."

"Bullshit." Yennefer's voice is agitated, and she stands up to put some space between them. "It changes everything."

Tissaia's jaw tightens and she shakes her head. "No. I should have still been able to stop them—"

"You were lying unconscious from ingesting fucking dimeritium, Tissaia!" Yennefer is yelling now, waving her hands around in the air. Chaos crackles around her and Tissaia can't help but think how beautiful she is.

"What if you had died?" she whispers, all of the fight leaving her in an instant as she turns away from Tissaia, her shoulders slumping. She can see the younger mage trembling, and Tissaia pushes herself off the bed and moves so that she's standing behind Yennefer. She reaches out with one hand, hovering over Yennefer's arm for a second before finally letting her palm settle on warm skin.

"I'm fine, Yennefer."

She means the words to be soothing, but they have the opposite effect. Yennefer whirls around and glares at her. 

"But what if you hadn't been?" Her voice breaks on the last word and she shakes her head angrily. "Gods, Tissaia, I could have lost you and I wouldn't even have known it!"

Tissaia stills. It's the closest Yennefer has come to outright saying that she doesn't hate her, might even care for her. She chances a step forward, bringing her close enough that she can see the flecks of gold in Yennefer's eyes as she looks up at the younger woman and tries to understand.

"I didn't think..." she trails off before trying again, choosing her words carefully. "When I woke, so much had already happened. They'd decided on your exile, and I knew you likely held me responsible for not being able to stop them. I thought it would be better for me to try to find you, to explain what happened in person."

"And then I bit your head off when you did," Yennefer says with a bitter laugh. "It's no wonder you ran to hide here and get away from me."

Tissaia looks at her with surprise. "Is that why you think I'm here?" 

Yennefer shrugs. "It's the only reason that makes sense."

"Oh, you sweet, stupid girl," Tissaia murmurs reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Yennefer's ear. "I came here because I couldn't trust myself not to follow you back to your ship and beg you to forgive me, to give me another chance. This was the only way I knew to stop myself from doing that." 

She almost chuckles at the look of abject confusion on Yennefer's face, but it also makes her ache at the thought of the younger woman being so convinced that Tissaia was trying to hide from her. 

"We clearly both need to work on our communication," she says wryly. "Drawing our own conclusions about things doesn't seem to be getting us very far."

Yennefer scoffs lightly but doesn't disagree. Instead, her gaze turns curious. "Why would you have followed me back to the ship?"

In spite of what she just said, Tissaia very nearly defaults back to deflection. But she takes a deep breath and forces herself to meet Yennefer's eyes.

"I care a great deal for you, Yennefer. In spite of the fact that I've done an abysmal job of showing it, you are precious to me. And I didn't—don't—want to lose you."

She hopes that it's enough. It's not in her nature to expose herself like this, no agenda and no armor to guard against a retaliatory blow, and she can't bear to say it more clearly than this.

But she thinks it might be enough, even though it's far from a grand declaration of undying love, because Yennefer is smiling at her—and it's a genuine smile, no art or artifice to it. The sight makes her heart warm and her own lips curl up at the edges in response.

"Stubborn old witch," Yennefer says, but her voice is soft as looks down at Tissaia. "Why didn't you just tell me that the begin with?"

"I didn't think you would be overly receptive to the idea, given the larger context." Tissaia rolls her eyes. She's about to say something else to try to regain some semblance of her pride, but Yennefer cuts her off.

"For the record, I am very,  _ very _ receptive." Her eyes darken and Tissaia inhales sharply at the sudden shift, feeling a throb of arousal go through her as one of Yennefer's hands lands on her hip and tugs her closer until there's no more space between them. She brings a hand up to trace a line from the edge of Tissaia's brow down to her jaw, and then she cups her face, leans down, and kisses her.

The kiss steals the breath from Tissaia's lungs. It's softer than she expected, but she can feel the wanting simmering in the younger woman. She stretches up a little on her toes to press more firmly against Yennefer, reveling in the tiny moan her reaction draws out. 

The usual scent that she's come to associate with Yennefer is noticeably absent. Instead of lilac and gooseberries, Tissaia breathes in the faint salt of ocean air and a faint floral smell. She wonders if that's the perfume that Maja wears, and the thought rips a possessive growl from her lips as she abandons Yennefer's mouth in favor of burying her nose in her neck, licking and nipping until the only thing she can smell is  _ Yennefer.  _

"She reminded me of you," Yennefer gasps, surmising what's riled Tissaia up. 

Tissaia bites hard enough to elicit a yelp before pulling back enough that she can see Yennefer's face again. "And? How did she measure up?"

"Not even close," Yennefer pants. She wraps a hand around the back of Tissaia's neck, urging her back in for another kiss that turns into a mess of teeth and tongue. Without ever breaking their kiss, Tissaia pushes her backward a few steps until Yennefer's back hits the wall. She nudges the younger woman's legs apart enough that she can slip a thigh between them, pressing forward with just enough pressure to make Yennefer's head spin.

Yennefer groans and her hips jump before stilling, but Tissaia just smiles into their kiss.

"Keep going." Her hands slide down to rest on Yennefer's hips, encouraging her to rock against her thigh. She can't get enough of the breathy whine that escapes the younger woman's throat at the contact. She keeps one hand gripped on a hipbone to ensure that Yennefer keeps moving, but she lets the other drift up to palm one of the taller woman's breasts.

The fabric of her dress is bulky and irritating, but she doesn't want to pull back and stop what she's doing long enough to remove the dress. She makes do as best she can, kneading and pinching until Yennefer's chest is heaving and flushed. 

The younger woman's head tips back against the wall and Tissaia turns her attention to the long column of her neck. She's not normally a possessive lover, but after seeing Yennefer with Maja and then thinking that she'd lost her forever, she desperately needs some way of making this feel real. She nips at Yennefer's earlobe and delights in the way that her hips grind down just a bit harder.

"Did you think about me, when you were with her?" she breathes across the shell of her ear. "Wishing it was me touching you, bringing you over the edge until you couldn't even remember your own name?"

"Yes," Yennefer whimpers, hips moving faster and breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 

"Yes what?" Tissaia's voice is low and dangerous, and she punctuates her words with another nip. "We're practicing using our words, Yennefer."

And okay, being ordered around is not usually Yennefer's thing, but it is definitely,  _ totally _ working for her right now, and she thinks she could probably come just from listening to Tissaia. But she can also sense the undercurrent of a question in Tissaia's words, the need for reassurance barely tucked behind the facade, and she forces herself to focus.

" _ Yes, _ I thought of you," she chokes out. "Gods, Tissaia, I couldn't think of anything else."

The words bring a small, hidden smile to Tissaia's face and she rewards the younger woman with an open-mouthed kiss over her thundering pulse point. Her skin tastes salty and has a faint tang that she craves more of, and she seals her mouth over the spot and sucks hard until Yennefer is practically writhing beneath her. She pulls back and looks at the purpling bruise with satisfaction before leaning in and pressing a gentler kiss next to it.

"Mine," she whispers, and she can't stop the wave of arousal that crashes over her when she feels Yennefer nodding frantically, murmuring, "I'm yours," on a neverending loop. She knows it's just the heat of the moment—in her normal life she would never dream of trying to claim another person as  _ hers,  _ and she knows Yennefer is just playing along, but it still does something indescribable to hear the words.

Tissaia shifts her stance slightly so that she can get a better angle. Yennefer's body tenses beneath her, and Tissaia knows she's close. She lets both hands slide around to cup Yennefer's ass, helping her move faster, get more pressure.

" _ Tissaia. _ " The way her name sounds coming out of Yennefer's mouth on a moan may be the most perfect thing Tissaia has ever heard. 

"Gods, Yennefer, the things I want to do to you," she murmurs. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you?"

The words are the last straw. Yennefer's whole body stills for a split second and then her mouth drops open in a silent scream as she shudders. Tissaia can practically  _ feel _ the pleasure radiating out from her and she can't resist dipping her head to press another kiss to the soft skin just below her ear. 

Yennefer slumps, eyes closed, but she tilts her head to give Tissaia more room and hums under her breath. Tissaia is fairly certain the only thing keeping the younger woman upright is the fact that she's more or less pinned against the wall. She certainly doesn't mind, though. It's soothing, being pressed so close to Yennefer, feeling the way her chest rises and falls as she tries to catch her breath.

After a few minutes, Yennefer stirs and straightens. Tissaia is overcome with a sudden, paralyzing fear that the younger woman is going to shove her away and walk out the door, and she ducks her head to try to hide her panic. Some hint of it must come through, though, because she feels soft hands cup her cheeks, tilting her face up until she's forced to look into violet eyes. Yennefer looks at her, a barely-there frown line between her brows as she tries to figure out what's wrong. Seeming to come to a decision, she leans down until her forehead is pressed against Tissaia's. 

The contact grounds Tissaia, and when a thumb tenderly brushes against the soft skin beneath her eye she sighs and leans further into the touch.

"I am, you know."

Tissaia blinks her eyes open, trying to understand the statement. 

"You are what?"

"Yours."

And the sincerity in Yennefer's eyes, the blatant unguarded affection staring back at her, makes it impossible for her to argue. She knows that this is Yennefer's way of saying she cares, and if this were any other situation she might laugh at their shared inability to ever just do things the easy way and talk openly about their feelings. But now, in this moment, she can do nothing but tip her head up and kiss the younger woman. 

She's not sure how long they stand there wrapped in each other's arms, trading slow kisses, but eventually she feels Yennefer's hands gripping just a bit tighter where they've been resting on her waist. 

Tissaia smiles a little into the kiss and pulls back just far enough that she can see the younger woman's face. She looks absolutely wrecked, all smudged lip paint and mussed hair and dark eyes, and Tissaia feels a surge of satisfaction that she's the cause. Yennefer arches a questioning brow and fingers flex against her hips once more. 

Tissaia drops a final kiss on her mouth and whispers, "Take me to bed." 

Yennefer almost trips over herself in her hast to do exactly that, and Tissaia can't stop the bright peal of laughter that escapes her as they tumble into the bed together.

###

Much later—or earlier, she isn't quite sure—Yennefer rolls off of Tissaia and pulls the blankets up around them. Her whole body is deliciously sore, and she relishes it. The physical ache reminds her that this is real, that she's lying next to Tissaia in real life and not a dream.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that."

She turns her head towards Tissaia, who's propped up on an elbow and watching her with a small smile of her own. Yennefer twists so that she's lying on her side facing the other woman.

"I haven't had a reason to, before now."

She relaxes against the pillows, her eyes drifting shut as she listens to the steady rhythm of Tissaia's breathing. She's never been one to stay in bed post-sex, but this feels like entirely different from anything she’s known before. If she could stay in this bed tangled up with Tissaia she would do it in a heartbeat. 

A thought occurs to her, and she chuckles. Tissaia cracks one eye open and looks at her questioningly.

Yennefer smirks and says, "I'll have to send Maja a very nice thank you for her meddling." 

She manages to contain her laughter at the unimpressed expression on Tissaia's face at the mention of the pirate, but barely.

"If she ever tries to kiss you again, I make no promises about her safety."

"Nor would I expect you to." She rather likes the apparent possessive streak Tissaia has, and while she's got no interest in anyone else, she does think it will be fun to see how far she can push it. 

Tissaia must catch her playful tone, because the smaller woman frowns at her. "You're going to use this against me at every opportunity, aren't you?"

Yennefer laughs openly this time, and she can't help but grin as she lets Tissaia pull her closer for another kiss. Yes, this will be very fun indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to L_Durven for prompting this fic, it's been a fun one!
> 
> Still open for prompts if you have a particular want for this ship :) Just say so in the comments, big thanks to all who read, leave kudos, and comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Part two in 1-2 days depending on how fast I type! There will be smut, for those who enjoy that type of thing. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed :)


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